


meaningless basketball drabbles

by judesrivers



Series: yoinks [1]
Category: Men's Basketball RPF
Genre: Angst, Multi, Smut, Smut (probably), Steph/klay is cute, there might be other ships, who knows ahhahaha
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-14 03:56:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29661399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/judesrivers/pseuds/judesrivers
Summary: just'a'bunch of basketball things that plop in my head when im watching the games and stuff igfluffangstsmut (probably)
Relationships: Stephen Curry/Klay Thompson
Series: yoinks [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2179656
Comments: 1
Kudos: 11





	meaningless basketball drabbles

When Steph made it out of the locker room he huffed out a pained whine, scrunching his face up in self annoyance from the purging soreness in his throat and nostrils. Nose burning from getting a tissue shoved up into it,  _ twice _ . Steph felt as if it were damn near touching the underpart of his eyeball, and it only worsened when he had to get another one up the other nostril because the last one didn’t go deep enough. Can’t you believe that? That’s just unintentionally putting someone through immense torture because you did not torture them correctly the first time. 

Trainer by his side, Steph was dressed down in his regular clothes that he came in with, mask on his face as he ventured out into the court to see the game from behind the scenes at least before he left with Klay. 

The 1srt quarter seemed chippy, Steph wasn’t sure if they’d make it through the game without being blown out. Kelly Oubre Jr seemed to be settling into a rhythm though, him and Wiggins, that looked promising for the outcome of the game. Steph sat down in one of the back chairs sheltered in the dark, pulling out his phone to text his father back - the man literally texted him despite having a laugh on the mic about it. Steph had a hectic headache, a throat that felt like a cheese grater rubbed against it, and his body was cramping since six in the morning. More on his phone than watching the game, Steph’s eyes drawled all over his mentions which were wishing him a fast recovery and theorizations of him having covid.

Imagine that - hah. Steph snorted, and then regretted it since he swallowed a glob of saliva immediately after. If it were a stomach ache then it would have gone away throughout the game, replaced by pumping adrenaline. Steph played with numerous stomach aches before, even with the food poisoning in the 2019 finals in which he was vomiting his guts out all day. 

Right here was a mix of dehydration, sore throat, and a massive headache. Plus, he’s in a slump, although he’s been on a physical basketball run throughout February - he fell back into a slump for the last couple of days. It didn’t match his current mental slump, but that’s just a  _ lot _ to think about at the moment. To be frank, Stephen was getting tired of thinking. God he never had to think so fucking much before. Maybe he could rant to Draymond about it. 

Klay wiggled his toes in his boot, only wearing it because he’d be walking around for a long time and his agent was already on his dick for catching him without a boot. Then there’s his trainer telling him something else: “You can take off the boot sometimes, try and retrain your leg. It’d grow weak if you walk around with the boot all of the time. Don’t listen to Greg, he’s like a worried mother sometimes.” At another time, he’d laugh about the memory but his mind was not exactly on himself at the moment. 

Steph came up to Klay earlier, looking pale and breathing a bit off. “Bright as fuck in here.” His boyfriend heaved, swiping his forearm against his forehead making Klay choke out a worried laugh. “I don’t feel so well.”

“Jesus, you admitted to not feeling well instead of hiding it this time.” Klay jokingly said, earning a basketball being plummeted towards his face. If Steph wasn’t sure of Klay’s reflexes he would not have thrown the ball at him all, but Klay caught it automatically with a charming smile that made the shorter man’s heart soar. “Seriously though, you feel like shit then sit out.” 

“But -” Steph began with a high pitched voice, only to get a ball thrown at  _ him _ this time - it didn’t exactly reach his face or body since Klay knew that Steph might not be up to playing around with the ball like that - basically he just airballed the targeting throw. 

“But nothing. Don’t start that.” 

Steph pouted, and then whirled around, springing up into the air a bit as he shot the ball graciously towards the hoop. Klay blinked, seeing the ball lifelessly hit the rim and spring almost towards halfcourt while one of the staff had raced out to retrieve it. “How bizarre.” Klay mockingly muttered, making sure it was loud enough so that Steph still heard it. 

“That was the wind.” Steph giggled, seemingly breathless and the smile fading almost like it was never there in the first place when he witnessed the opposing team beginning to head out into midcourt for tipoff. Dropping his head down, and murmuring a strained ‘I’ll be back’ Steph had walked over towards the team trainer who seemed to be standing there near the bench with a stern look of concern. 

“A bit last minute babe, but whatever works for you.” Klay had chuckled to himself, before standing up and moving towards the back so he could sneak the boot off. His foot was getting hot anyways, it was becoming hell keeping it on.

\--

  
  



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